


harrowing

by xivilaii



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Mild Angst, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, lots n lots of fluff, nick has a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 01:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8601703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xivilaii/pseuds/xivilaii
Summary: Onerous, draining, harrowing; neither this world nor the previous one have been kind to her. Valentine offers Nora his support.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello pals this is the first smutfic i've posted on the internet but there are More To Come!! if you have a pairing request then fire it at me x  
> i'd like to thank my best friend xav for helping me to overcome my mortification at the word cock 
> 
> also nick has a dick todd howard is lying to us all
> 
> // edit: hey everyone!! i have a longfic with these two in the works, and chapter one and two are up!! its titled 'still waters run deep' xx

Harrowed.

It was the only word that came to mind when he looked at her, at her taut face and troubled stare. Nora was a beautiful woman, but her skin was pallid and her hands would quiver and quake; Nick knew- he _knew_ \- that there was something there, something lurking and sneaking its tendrils into her veins and pulling her limbs like puppet strings each time she shot up from her bed with a cutting inhale.  
  


Perhaps she forgot sometimes that he didn’t sleep. Nick heard it all- the shaking breaths, the muffled sobbing, footsteps at the ungodly hours in which she would wake and wander. Hell, she hardly slept more than he did, though he couldn’t exactly blame her. The knowledge she carried was like an anvil; husband dead, son the leader of the organization that had plagued her since the beginning- it was a wonder she slept at all, the poor woman. He suspected that some of it came from before, though. One would expect another to become accustomed to gunfire after having lived in the Commonwealth for nearly a year, but not Nora. Sirens were the worst, though; she’d broken down aquiver and in tears once because of a blaring siren from somewhere closeby. He’d never forget the way she grasped his hands.  
  


Nora had told him some of her story from before; she was born in Washington, she had a husband named Nate, she had a beautiful son named Shaun, a house with a lovely lawn and a childhood home with a pool. She’d also told him that her father was killed in action when she was a teenager. Nick could tell that she’d had medical experience; she knew just how to dress a wound, how to stitch, how to diagnose and medicate. Hell, he’d watched her set MacCready’s arm back into its socket after he dislocated it. The woman had skill, but what intrigued him more was that she’d evidently had experience.     
  


That, the sirens, and a few other little habitual clues he’d picked up here and there had led him to believe that perhaps she’d been a military nurse. It was by no means uncommon then, which was possibly the saddest thing; very few of them escaped war without seeing a man die. It made sense, though, that Nora would be one- her husband had been military, and despite her aversion to gunfire she worked well in a combat environment. Besides, her aim with that rifle was clearly honed.  
  


Nick felt terrible for investigating; she’d clearly undergone some sort of trauma, regardless of what she did. It was easily gathered from her neurotic nature; she was a nervous wreck, who appeared on the verge of tears every time she was startled. He pitied her- perhaps wrongly so, but he couldn’t help it. He just hoped she was okay; God, he _really did_. But there was this thing she’d do, sometimes; almost like a complete switch in demeanor. One moment she’d be fragile, and the next she’d be mischievous and jesting; flirtatious, even. It puzzled him, but he wouldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it.  
  


“Nicky?” a voice piped, followed by the rustling of fabric and a knock at his door. Speak of the fucking devil, and she will appear. “You doin’ okay?”  
  


The door creaked open and Nora stepped inside, specter-esque in the darkness. Nick shifted to face her and his brows knitted. “Yeah, yeah. Why’d you ask?”  
  


The smile that followed was sheepish, and Nora gestured in the direction of her room with a small, barely audible chuckle. “I could hear your processors,” she said lightly, but her following tone was sombre. “Is somethin’ going on, Nick? You look a bit shaken.”  
  


His inner monologue interjected unbidden. ‘ _Nothin’ I can tell you about, dollface._ ’      
  


“Just some diagnostics,” he said instead. “Nothin’ out of the ordinary; don’t worry, doll.”  
  


Nora looked him up and down and frowned, an endearing line appearing between her eyebrows. Nick felt his fans begin whir a little faster, and prayed that they weren’t audible; if a synth like him could blush, he’d be scarlet. It wasn’t an expression he was unused to, though- often when they were travelling, or during and after combat, or even simply when they were both weary and ragged, she would pin him with that concerned stare. Guilt plagued him; Nora was a busy woman. She shouldn’t be worrying about an old _robot_ like him.

 

“Nicky, you’re shaking,” she interjected, voice soft and hands drifting slowly- _carefully_ \- towards his shoulders. Looking down, he realised that his arms were aquiver. “You’ve gotten yourself into a _state_. Come on, sit down.”

 

He could do nothing but listen. Her hands landed upon his once he sat in his armchair, turning them over and resting on his palms. Nick’s leg was bouncing, and suddenly the room was far too hot- or, perhaps, it was too cold. Both at once, maybe. Or, perhaps, it was simply her proximity, and the set of those overwrought brown eyes upon his own. She had tragic eyes, he thought; lovely, nonetheless, but sad.

 

“Doll,” said Nick, shifting his gaze. “I’m fine. Honest. I’m an old synth; the hardware tends to get a little _loud_ sometimes.”

 

Nora’s eyebrows knitted, and she tilted her head to meet his eyes. There was a gentle but certainly present inquisition in her gaze, and when she spoke only a single word was uttered, but the simultaneously anxious and firm tone gave him pause. “ _Nick_.”    

 

Valentine sighed and stood, clasping Nora’s shoulder with his good hand. The corners of her mouth were quirked downwards in concern, and the line between her brows had deepened; he hated that she was so distraught. “I’m just worried, Nora. Everything that’s happenin’, everything that’s been thrown at you. I don’t know how you’re coping.”  
  
  
She said nothing for a long moment, but the concern in her face melted away and into something else, something less akin to woe. There was still no smile, but the line of her mouth was less tense, and he could’ve sworn that he felt her huff a small chuckle into his chest when she stepped forwards, wrapping warm arms around his stiff form. It took him a moment to reciprocate, but when he did, his arms slid tightly around her shoulders and his head rested atop hers. They’d hugged before; not often, but they had. One instance Nick remembered clearly was when Nora stood from Kellogg’s prone body, covered in the merc’s blood, and turned teary, pleading eyes to him, lip wobbling and hands shaking.  
  
  
“I’m worried,” he continued, aware of the feeling of his processors vibrating against her head, wondering faintly if she could feel the coolant rushing through his synthetic veins, “because you’re carryin’ the weight of the Commonwealth on your back.”

 

“You don’t have to worry about me, Nicky,” she said, pulling back to look at him, a serious look upon her face but the ghost of a smile playing at her lips. “I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

 

The synth huffed a laugh and shook his head. Nora was a gentle, kind soul, but she was damned stubborn. “That’s the thing, doll. You shouldn’t have to. You have so many friends to support you: John, Preston, Piper, the others. Hell, even the Tinman. And you’ve- uh- always got _me_ , too.”

 

Nora smiled at his stutter. He wasn’t blind; she spent a great deal more time with him than any of her other companions, but he usually accounted that to his convenience- Nick didn’t need to eat, or sleep, and he was far more resilient to damage than a human, or even a ghoul, not to mention being resistant to radiation. It had crossed his mind a few times that perhaps she simply enjoyed his company, but he always disregarded those brief thoughts; Nora deserved someone like Preston or Piper, someone kind and compassionate with _blood_ running through their veins. Not a rusty old robot detective, regardless of Nick’s feelings.

 

“I’m used to fending for myself,” admitted Nora, tone despondent. It got to him how she could change so quickly from exultant to blue; made him wonder how many of her smiles were genuine. “But I- thank you. For always bein’ there, even when in truth I didn’t deserve you.”

 

“Nonsense.”

 

She laughed, though it was self-deprecating. “When I first met you, Nicky, I was fucking terrified of you. You were the first synth I ever met, and I treated you like a _condiment_. I was so wrong, and I’m so glad I stuck with you- if I hadn’t gone back with you to Diamond City, I wouldn’t be here.”

 

Nick’s brow knitted. “That’s no fault of yours, doll. You’ve treated this old bot better than anyone else out here.”

 

Nora’s hand skimmed his collar, lingering lightly across the rift in his panels. Her forehead was level with his chin; Nick wasn’t a short man- all of the gen twos were six foot, him included- but she was small, even in the ‘Wealth, though with flared hips and a heavy bust. The Wasteland had yet to sand away her pre-war softness, a detail that had failed to escape his notice; Nick was a synth, but dear Lord above he was still a man, with a certain _asset_ that he’d neglected for far too long.

 

An asset that was receiving a good amount of coolant, though nothing seemed to be _cooling_.    

 

“Nicky, you’ve helped me the most out of anyone in this hellhole,” breathed Nora, expression conflicted- he could _see_ her internal turmoil. “But I’d be lying if I said my reasoning wasn’t completely selfish.”  
  
  
The detective had to smile, and ran his good hand across her jawbone, fingers brushing against high cheekbones. Her skin was silken. “You say that as if _mine_ isn’t, too.”  
  
  
That was all it took. They surged forwards at the same time, Nora pulling him down at the collar and twisting her hand in his tie, lashes tickling his cheeks. The initial kiss was chaste- sweet lips and gentle sighs- but the one that followed was far more insistent. Nick’s fingers tangled in her short hair, and his frame hand drifted downwards to rest at her hip, metal fingers digging into the generous flesh. She exhaled against his lips and shuddered beneath his hands- _responsive_.       

 

He pulled back to look at her- cheeks flushed and eyes wide- and thought that perhaps it was the most _alive_ he’d ever seen her look. Nora stared at him unblinking and expressionless for a long, terrifying moment, then grinned wide and lifted her hand to cup his ruined cheek. Nick wagered that it’d be an interesting contrast; her pallid flesh against his rugged, torn panels, but smoothed back her hair with his good hand and placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead anyways. She blushed deep, and guided his lips back to hers, this time pressing her mouth firmly upon his own and nipping his lower lip, eliciting a sharp gasp. His tongue darted out to trace the seam between their mouths and tangle with her own, drawing the softest of moans from her.  
  
  
“You have _no idea_ ,” whispered Nora, retracting her lips to rest her forehead against his, “how long I’ve been waiting for this.”        

 

Nick’s fans were running louder than he’d ever heard them. God fucking damn. “ _Oh_ , I have an idea, alright,” he drawled back, skimming a hand up her spine and digging his metal fingers into her hip a little more. Her eyes shut and a gentle sigh escaped her, mouth forming a pleasant ‘O’. “Ever since you waltzed into that vault it’s been- uh- _on my mind_ .” 

 

She shivered, and he liked it.

 

“With all due respect, Nicky, I know you’re a damn good talker,” hissed Nora, dragging her fingers down the divot between his shoulderblades, “but I’d appreciate you usin’ that lovely mouth of yours for something else, right now.”  

 

He rumbled his agreement, bowing his knees slightly to reach behind her thighs and hoist her up, revelling in her yelp of surprise and the remarkably tight circle of her legs around his narrow hips. Her teeth played at his jaw as he stumbled to the hardly-used bed she had insisted remain in his room, bypassing it entirely to instead pin her bodily against the wall. He hoped distantly that MacCready wasn’t around- poor fucker didn’t need to hear this. He also hoped- far more actively- that Paladin Danse _was_ ; that one _deserved_ to.

 

Nick’s head dipped to her neck and he ran his lips down the side- pale, smooth, and luminescent in the dim lighting- and sank his teeth into the flesh at the junction of her throat and collarbone. Nora fumbled to undo the trench coat between them, the synth hissing each time her hands brushed a particularly _sensitive_ area, and managed to eventually shuck it off his shoulders, standing on her own for a moment as he withdrew to remove the coat and unbutton the shirt underneath. Any insecurities he’d had were beginning to melt away under the heat of her gaze, and his skin became molten when she surged forwards to slide her hands up the panels of his abdomen.

 

Nora crushed her lips to his and pushed him backwards until he fell onto the bed, his tight grip around her waist forcing her down with him, thighs set either side of his waist as she straddled him. Nick groaned when she slid her tongue against his, and barely managed to suppress the reflexive buck of his hips when her fingers found the seam between his pelvic and hip panels. She pulled back and regarded his lower half with curiosity.

 

“Did the Institute happen to equip you with the fun par-” she begun, smile fiendish, but her words were cut off by the low, uncharacteristic rumble that escaped him as her fingers travelled lightly over the bulge straining against his trousers. “Oh, my. I suppose they did.”

 

“Damned- _mmm_ \- minx,” he shot back, fingers raking up her thighs. “You’re killin’ me here, Nor.”

 

Nora loosened his tie, but not before using it to pull his head towards hers so she could skim her teeth across his jawline, whispering in a low husk, “If I fry your circuits, I promise to fix you.”

  
He grinned, hoisting himself up into a seated position and slipping his tie from around his neck, discarding it on the pillow beside him. Nick’s hands reached for her ass- plush and round and clad in that vault suit that didn’t leave a goddamn thing to the imagination- and gripped a handful, chuckling as she let out a rugged gasp. His human digits left her behind and began to creep up her thigh, brushing the junction between them and eliciting a strangled moan before dragging upwards and over the planes of her stomach, overtop her bust, and finally to the suit’s zipper. He fiddled with it for a moment, eyes never leaving hers, then yanked it down harshly to her waist.

 

“Fuck, _Nicky_ ,” she whispered, biting his shoulder as he reached within her suit to trace her hipbones. His metal hand was still kneading the plump flesh of her ass, occasionally shifting daringly to run across her covered cleft. “Always knew you were- _hnng_ \- good with your... _hands_.”

 

Nick chuckled. “And you’re not about to forget it.”

 

He slipped the suit off her shoulders and down her arms, proceeding to bend her over his lap in order to pull it down over her ass and legs, giving her behind a light smack for good measure and smirking at the surprised moan of indignation she barked.     

 

“Fucker.”  
  
  
“That’s the idea, doll.”

 

She righted herself and wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him once, briefly but firmly, before biting down hard on the junction of his neck and collarbone, drawing a loud groan from the synth. Her underwear was simple- white, with a thin, neat trimming of lace skirting the edges. The tops of her breasts threatened to spill from the bra, which was clearly a size or so too small; couldn’t have been comfortable, so Nick decided to relieve her of it, grinning at her as he tweaked one of her dusky peaks with his good digits. Nora writhed, crying out, and ground her hips against his roughly.

 

He ducked his head to circle her neglected nipple with his tongue, proceeding to run his hand down her side and brush his thumb against her mound. She bit down on her lip and gyrated her hips against him, letting out a sharp cry when he pushed aside the fabric of her panties and traced her slit lightly with his index finger. He bit down on her peak lightly, soothed the area with a kiss, then slid her off his lap and onto her back. She was a _sight_ \- heaving bust and flushed face, gasping and grinning at him.

 

Nora was a solemn woman, but in that moment, she was blithe. It made Nick smile, wide and warm and _genuine_.

 

He clambered overtop her, leaning down to press his lips to hers and pulling the white fabric down over her thighs. His fingers brushed over the smooth skin of her inner thighs, tracing the silvery marks there, and proceeded to run up her folds, feeling the wetness there. Nick could feel himself straining against his trousers, throbbing painfully when she reached under the fabric of his shirt to run her nails down his spine.

 

An odd, clinical part of him that Nick suspected was _not_ the cop from 200 years ago piped, ‘ _grasp the mammaries_ ’.

 

Being a synth had its downfalls, sometimes.

 

“ _Nicky_ ,” hissed Nora, writhing against his hand. His thumb was resting at her clit, applying the barest of pressure- not enough to do anything, persay, but enough for her to _feel it_ . “ _Fuck_ , Nicky, _please_.”    

 

Valentine chuckled, dragging his appraising stare up her body. God, she was gorgeous. _Delectable_. His metal hand withdrew from beneath her to knead a full breast, skeletal fingers flicking over her sensitive peaks, and he swallowed her low moan with a kiss. The fingers of his good hand were becoming adventurous, pushing between her folds and running down the moistened slit, thumb applying more pressure to her clit. Nora quivered underneath him.

 

“Since you asked so nicely, dollface, I suppose I have no choice but to oblige.”

 

He sank his middle finger into her to the knuckle, reveling in the buck of her hips and the low, drawn out groan he pulled from her. Nick pumped his hand slowly, beginning to flick his thumb across her sensitive nub, Nora’s ragged gasps egging him on. He added another finger, again pushing in to the knuckle, and couldn’t help a sharp inhale and the way she twisted her hips and bit her lower lip, eyes screwed shut and brows knitted.

 

“Good?” inquired Nick, tone casual. Nora cracked an eye open, regarding him with something like amusement despite the rhythmatic pump of his fingers into her core, the wet sounds of which were either entirely ridiculous or arousing; the synth couldn’t decide.

 

“Good, it’s real- _mhmm_ \- fuckin’ good, _fuck_ ,” she breathed, rumbling her concurrence, hips gyrating against his hand. “Come on _,_ Nicky. You can- _uhnn_ \- go faster, I’m not gonna- _fuck_ \- break.”       

 

“I’ll be the one to determine that, doll.”

 

He sat back and withdrew her hands from his torso, shuffling down until his mouth was level with her clit, regarding her with a cock of the brow. Nora let out a harsh, shuddering breath, and rolled her hips; he took that as his invitation. His tongue delved forwards, darting across her nub as a third finger joined the two thrusting in and out of her.

 

It took only a few moments before her breathing quickened and Nick felt her begin to quiver under his ministrations, and he removed his mouth for a brief moment- chuckling at her disappointed whimper- to lick his lips and trail a line of kisses up her hipbone.

 

“Come for me, dollface,” he whispered, observing with rapt attention the way her face twisted.

 

She began to shake as soon as his mouth returned to her clit, and clenched hard around his pumping fingers. His metal fingers tweaked her breast as she came, hips bucking and crying out _loud_ in ecstasy. He was able to make out his name amongst the nonsensical moans, and grinned; he had a good view, from his position between her legs, and the image of her face twisted in pleasure- bust heaving and mouth curved in that lovely ‘O’ shape- was one he’d be storing in his memory banks for a long time.

 

Nick withdrew his fingers and drew a line up her slit with his tongue before sitting up, dotting kisses from her hipbones to her breasts to her neck. She smiled at him; it was a warm smile, genuine and beaming- aglow, even. There was a long moment in which they simply looked at one another, hands wandering and breathing hard.

 

The calm was broken by Nick’s low groan, elicited by Nora’s hand dragging gently across where he was straining against the fabric of his trousers, shifting to unbuckle his belt. While she did, Nick reached for his tie, discarded on the pillow; he had an idea. She’d managed to work his trousers down before he grasped her wrists, tie in one hand and face inquisitive.

 

“May I?”       
  
  
Nora’s hips rolled. “ _Please_.”

 

He knotted the tie around her wrists and secured them to the bedpost, making sure they weren’t too tight and that she’d be able to slip out of them if she needed to; just incase. Her back arched, rolling her hips against Nick’s, skin meeting synthetic flesh with a spark of heat.

 

He stepped out of his trousers, and pulled down the simple underwear he wore underneath- it was a luxury many in the Wasteland bypassed, but Nick was unwilling to go without. He supposed it was a pre-war thing. His length bobbed out, and Nora eyed it, seeming to regret letting him bind her hands; it was one of the liberties the Institute had taken with his design. They’d done him _that_ service, at least, though admittedly it’d been neglected in recent times.

 

“Know what you want, doll?”

 

He ran his hard tip along her slit, smiling at her and the way her head fell back, arms and chest tensing in a certain way that he decided he _liked_ . Nora nodded and bit her lip, moving her hips with his teasing. She was _wet._ Nick leaned down to crush his lips against hers, in a less gentle fashion than he had intended. Her teeth caught on his lower lip as he drew back.

 

“Then _tell me_ ,” he managed, positioning himself at her entrance, tip teasing the opening.

 

Nora let out a long groan of frustration, finally meeting his eyes with a steely resolve. “Nicky,” she began breathlessly, brows knitted at him, “I want you to _fuck me_.”

 

“How could I not fulfill such a tempting request,” he replied, teasing, before ever-so-slowly sinking in to the hilt. God, she felt good. The two let out simultaneous moans; he filled her to the brim, hilt deep and twitching inside her. For the first time since they had begun, Nick found himself unable to speak- due not to the sensation, but the stare Nora pinned him with; heated and filled with lust and something gentler. Something like adoration.

 

“N-Nick,” she managed, hooking a leg around his waist to try and draw him in deeper. Her back arched when he rolled his hips in response. “ _Fuck_ , Nick, I’m- _uhnn_ …”  

 

There was something beautifully erotic about the way she was writhing. Hell, _she_ was beautifully erotic; or, perhaps, erotically beautiful. Words weren’t exactly working for him.

 

Nick allowed her to adjust to his size, then withdrew almost to the tip, proceeding to slam back in to the hilt- her back arched and her bust heaved, body dancing to the tune of the slap of their hips meeting and the sharp cry they each let out. He repeated the action once, then grasped her leg from under the knee and hooked it over his shoulder, drawing her closer to him and allowing him to get deeper.

 

He thrusted in and out, picking up speed and momentum as he went until he was railing her. Nora was a fucking _sight_ , sweating and flushed with her hands bound by his tie behind her, chest bouncing with each snap of Nick’s hips. His metal hand was at her breast again, kneading and tweaking, while his undamaged fingers had snaked between them and were working her clit. He could feel her beginning to clench and twitch around him, and her breathing was picking up, moans intermittent and _loud_ . She wasn’t long off, and _fucking hell_ , neither was he.   

 

“You- _mhmm_ \- close, doll?” Nick managed, leaning over her to nip at her neglected nipple, hilting himself when her back arched as a result. “‘Cause I- _fuck_ \- sure am.”

 

“God, Nicky, keep talking,” hissed Nora, moving her hips in synchronisation with his own.

 

He wasn’t sure he’d be able. Nick could feel the heat coiling in his abdomen, unbidden and sudden, and tried his best to work through it. His thrusts were beginning to become fast and sporadic, and with each hard slam of his cock into her she rolled her hips to meet his thrust, taking him as deep as she could.     

 

“You’re doin’ a number on me, Nor,” he said, breathless. “I can feel- _nhnn_ \- that you’re close, doll, and I want you to look me in the eyes when you come.”

 

That- apparently- was all it took. Her back arched off the bed, and the walls of her core tightened and clenched around him. Nora cried out his name, meeting his gaze and holding it as he worked her through her orgasm, thighs twitching and breathing erratic. He could feel her fluids running down his length, and could hear the wet sounds the meeting of their hips produced.

 

The tight vice of her around him managed to spur on his own climax, which hit him hard and fast- similarly to how he railed her through it.

 

“Y-you- _uhn_ ... _in me_ ,” Nora breathed, rolling her hips against his feverishly, slipping a hand out of the tie to work her clit. “Come on, Nicky- _fuck_!”

 

Nick bit down hard on her shoulder as he came, hilting inside her and spilling his synthetic seed with a rugged groan that was somewhat reminiscent of her name. She managed another alongside him, withdrawing her other hand from the binds to run her nails down his chest, moaning something unintelligible.

 

They stayed prone for a long moment before Nick pulled out, laying back on the bed panting and twitching. Nora took a bit longer, staring at the ceiling with her mouth agape, bust heaving and hands shaking. He worried that she regretted it; hell, she’d have every right to. What if she loved someone else, or was still hung up about her late husband, or-

 

“Nick?”

 

Nick. Not Nicky, but _Nick_ . He felt his gut wrench as he rolled to face her. “Yeah, doll?”        
  
  
She was quiet for a moment, but when she shifted onto her side towards him, she was smiling. And it wasn’t a fiendish smile, nor a jesting one, but… adoring. Warm. A smile he couldn’t recall ever having seen before. A smile he couldn’t help but mirror.

 

Her hand lifted to his face, tracing the ruined side, before drawing him in towards her so their lips could meet. Slowly, Nora moved her mouth against his, and he reached to wrap his arms around her, pinning her to his chest in an embrace. When she drew back, the smile was wider, and she rested her forehead against his.

 

“I love you,” said Nora, after a moment. Those brown eyes of hers were staring holes into him, and all he could do was choke on his words. “I- I _really_ do, Nicky. And I hope that this isn’t a one off kinda thing.”

 

Valentine pressed a light kiss to her nose and grinned. “I love you too, you big sook.”

 

She swatted his arm with a chuckle, and Nick felt all the pieces come together. It felt as if that odd little void inside him that had existed for as long as he could remember was filled.

 

And Nora wasn’t Jenny. Hell, she was nothing like Jenny, and he fucking adored her. Somehow, he felt that she was entirely separate from his late fiancee, and he wasn’t sure if that was because Jenny died all those years ago, or if it was simply due to the fact that she’d been loved by a different Nick. He couldn’t speak for his former self, but he knew that Nick Valentine- the detective, the synth, DC’s resident metal man- had never felt this way before.

 

Harrowed was- earlier- the word that came to mind at the thought of Nora, but as she was, curled into his chest and regarding him with loving eyes, the only word that struck him was content.

 

  

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading xx  
> feedback is greatly appreciated! <3


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